autre interns, autre mores
May. 27th, 2003 06:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sisyphusshruggedHe Stole a Lot More Than My Words
By Macarena Hernandez
Macarena Hernandez is a reporter for the San Antonio Express-News.
One of the last stories Jayson Blair wrote before being unmasked as a liar and plagiarist contained these words: "Juanita Anguiano points proudly to the pinstriped couches, the tennis bracelet in its red case and the Martha Stewart furniture out on the patio. She proudly points up to the ceiling fan."
Eight days earlier, I had written similar words about Anguiano in an article for my newspaper, the San Antonio Express-News: "So the single mother, a teacher's aide, points to the ceiling fan he installed in her small living room," I wrote. "She points to the pinstriped couches, the tennis bracelet still in its red velvet case and the Martha Stewart patio furniture, all gifts from her first born and only son."
When I read Blair's story early on the morning of April 26, it seemed possible, barely, that Blair too had visited Anguiano, a south Texas mother whose son Edward was the last American soldier missing in action in Iraq. There was also a tiny chance she had shown him the same items she showed me. But there was a problem. The Martha Stewart patio furniture wasn't on the patio: It was in its box next to the kitchen table. I doubted that Anguiano had found the energy to haul it outside after we spoke. Also, when she pointed to her furniture and jewelry, there had been no hint of pride, only pain.
I soon concluded that Blair had stolen my work. In the process, he'd also twisted Anguiano's story, dishonoring her pain at one of the worst times in her life.
I spent much of the morning after I read Blair's story searching for a logical explanation. Maybe, I told myself, he came down here but found it difficult to navigate a region where Spanish is more valuable than English. Maybe Anguiano had only given him a short interview and he needed more. I even entertained the notion that maybe he had to rely on my story because of racism. There aren't too many blacks in south Texas: Maybe this Mexican American mother from Los Fresnos did not warm up to a black guy from Virginia.
But the stark fact was that Blair had lifted information from my story without crediting it. In this business, where honesty and trust are at the heart of everything we do, plagiarism and lies can't be ignored.
The situation was made more complicated by the fact that I knew Jayson. Five years ago, we spent three months together as New York Times interns. We were both offered jobs there at the end of the summer, but I returned to Texas instead. Now I wondered whether the pressure of being at the New York Times had proved too much for Jayson. I worried that my calling attention to his theft would cost him his job...
Ms. Hernandez was also offered a spot at the times, but gave it up to return and take care of her mother in the wake of her father's death. She has since earned a job as a reporter in Texas.
I'd be fascinated to hear what the dextropundiat thinks her story symbolizes.
By Macarena Hernandez
Macarena Hernandez is a reporter for the San Antonio Express-News.
One of the last stories Jayson Blair wrote before being unmasked as a liar and plagiarist contained these words: "Juanita Anguiano points proudly to the pinstriped couches, the tennis bracelet in its red case and the Martha Stewart furniture out on the patio. She proudly points up to the ceiling fan."
Eight days earlier, I had written similar words about Anguiano in an article for my newspaper, the San Antonio Express-News: "So the single mother, a teacher's aide, points to the ceiling fan he installed in her small living room," I wrote. "She points to the pinstriped couches, the tennis bracelet still in its red velvet case and the Martha Stewart patio furniture, all gifts from her first born and only son."
When I read Blair's story early on the morning of April 26, it seemed possible, barely, that Blair too had visited Anguiano, a south Texas mother whose son Edward was the last American soldier missing in action in Iraq. There was also a tiny chance she had shown him the same items she showed me. But there was a problem. The Martha Stewart patio furniture wasn't on the patio: It was in its box next to the kitchen table. I doubted that Anguiano had found the energy to haul it outside after we spoke. Also, when she pointed to her furniture and jewelry, there had been no hint of pride, only pain.
I soon concluded that Blair had stolen my work. In the process, he'd also twisted Anguiano's story, dishonoring her pain at one of the worst times in her life.
I spent much of the morning after I read Blair's story searching for a logical explanation. Maybe, I told myself, he came down here but found it difficult to navigate a region where Spanish is more valuable than English. Maybe Anguiano had only given him a short interview and he needed more. I even entertained the notion that maybe he had to rely on my story because of racism. There aren't too many blacks in south Texas: Maybe this Mexican American mother from Los Fresnos did not warm up to a black guy from Virginia.
But the stark fact was that Blair had lifted information from my story without crediting it. In this business, where honesty and trust are at the heart of everything we do, plagiarism and lies can't be ignored.
The situation was made more complicated by the fact that I knew Jayson. Five years ago, we spent three months together as New York Times interns. We were both offered jobs there at the end of the summer, but I returned to Texas instead. Now I wondered whether the pressure of being at the New York Times had proved too much for Jayson. I worried that my calling attention to his theft would cost him his job...
Ms. Hernandez was also offered a spot at the times, but gave it up to return and take care of her mother in the wake of her father's death. She has since earned a job as a reporter in Texas.
I'd be fascinated to hear what the dextropundiat thinks her story symbolizes.
